


Of Guardians and Death

by Cheezy_Qs



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Character Death, Ghosts, Loss of Powers, Near Death Experiences, Original Character(s), Other, Slow Build, Souls
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:06:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27470173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheezy_Qs/pseuds/Cheezy_Qs
Summary: Pitch is back. But this time, he's gained a power strong enough to bring about the end of the whole world! The Guardians need help, and The Man in the Moon knows just who to call: Grimm R. Radomir, aka The Grim Reaper. Watch, as:•	Bunny makes an ass of himself!•	The Tooth Fairy bawls her eyes out!•	The Sandman is surprisingly mysterious!And much, much more!Should I add elements of romance to this fic? Let me know in the comments!
Kudos: 7





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Quick Disclaimer!  
> I didn’t even know that the movies were based on a book series when I started writing this fic. (Yes, yes, I know, don’t hate on me too hard plz.) So, all of this is based purely on the movie version of the cannon, plus a little of what I picked up on from other fics I’ve read in the fandom, such as character’s full names and whatnot. I did watch a video summary of the books recently, so there might be some references or shared themes here and there, but other than that, this is all purely movie cannon.

“I can’t believe it.” Toothiana shook her head.

“Didn’t Pitch learn his lesson last time?” Jack Frost asked, aiming his words at no one in particular.

“Evidently not.” Nicholas had his arms crossed, staring at the globe, brows furrowed. “Either way, we need to figure how to stop him, or we are squashed like cranberry jelly.”

“Can’t we just beat the bugger again, same way we did before?” Bunnymund crossed his arms as he spoke.

“No,” Nicholas shook his head solemnly, “he is not going to fall for same trick twice. Besides, with this new source of power he has, whatever it may be, it has made him stronger than anything we have ever seen. We need to put our heads together and—“

Suddenly, the gang of Guardians had their attention stolen, as a bright ray of moonlight shone through the quartz-like stone on the nearby pedestal. They all knew far too well what it meant.

A new guardian was being chosen.

“What, again? I was jus’ startin’ to tolerate frostbite over ‘ere!”

The light continued to shine, ignoring the Easter Bunny.

A cloud of golden sand in the form of a four-leaf clover appeared over the Sandman’s head.

“If he didn’t choose the leprechaun last time, I doubt he’d choose him this time, Sandy.” Bunnymund said, rolling his eyes.

Sandy frowned.

The light began to coalesce into a shape, as the whole room held its breath in anticipation. It shifted, solidifying more and more, until…

“Oh, no…”

“What?”

A shiver of dread washed over them all as they gazed upon the figure before them:

A tall, thin woman, in a cloak, holding a scythe.

There was a hush before North finally muttered the name which laid on all their lips:

“The Grim Reaper.”

* * *

Grimm sighed, stretching her arms over her head, and listening to the delicate bones in her spine pop in protest. Another final moment frozen in time, another stubborn soul not ready to leave, but unwilling to sacrifice their only ticket to paradise. Her arms fell to her side, and she took a moment to appreciate her surroundings.

She stood alone on a cold mountaintop, snow blowing wildly in every direction. Were she corporeal at that moment, the winds would pin her against the craggy, ice-covered wall to her right, as it did for her most recent reaping. His body still lay broken on the edge of the path on which she stood.

Even after completing a reaping, Grimm liked to return the scene of the soul’s death. Something about the stillness was comforting, especially in a desolate place like this, where there were no bustling paramedics or blasts of cannon fire.

She did think it was a bit of a shame though, to die in such a slow, painful way. As Grimm looked down on this young man’s frozen face, however, she smiled. She knew he was at peace now. That was all that mattered.

Suddenly remembering to check her watch, Grimm cringed.  
  
Mumbling curses, she focused her power on one location; a department store in Alabama.  
Before she could teleport out, however, a tall, dark shadow in the corner in the corner of her eye caught her attention. When she looked back, she sighed.

“No, Pitch, I’m not going to share my power with you, take you to any of the various underworlds, or marry you. Please leave me alone. As always, I am very busy and don’t have time for you.”

She started to turn away, but stopped, blinking.

“Wait… Didn’t the Guardians defeat you about a year ago? How are you here?”

Pitch shook his head, chuckling softly, seeming to float as he grew closer. The menacing way that he moved, combined with his dark aura and impressive stature would have scared the pants off even other immortals. Grimm’s face, however, remained unimpressed.

“Dear Grimm,” Pitch drawled, “I mean to ask of you nothing of the sort. I’m not here to beg you for anything. In fact…”

Suddenly, black shadows shot out from under Pitch’s robe, his hands reaching out with them. In the amount of time it takes the average human being to blink, Grimm was pressed against the icy wall by black tendrils, Pitch’s hand curled tightly around her neck.

“… I’m here to kill you.”

Pitch cackled, raising a knife made of shadows high above his head.  
The knife plunged deep into her chest.

Grimm stood, smiling sweetly, totally unaffected.

Pitch spluttered, staring at the hole where immortal blood should have been pouring from. Had he not poured enough fear and dread into the blade?

Grimm sighed, shaking her head. “A little advice, dear; do some research on your target before attempting to assassinate them. For example, as it turns out, _I_ can’t be killed by physical means, even those that would kill any other immortal spirit. It takes far more than that to stop a literal force of nature.”

Suddenly, an alarm on her watch began to beep angrily.

The reaper sighed, clenching her fists as they began to glow a pale blue. Their light refracted between each crystal of ice behind her, haloing her in a ghostly light.

“Great, now I’m late. Thanks for that.”

In seconds, all that was left was a dusting of blue light, floating away and dissipating.

Pitch growled, slamming his fist against the stones which had moments earlier been slated to be the mount for his prize.

_Why couldn’t he see what she was afraid of?_


	2. In Which Grimm is Impatient

Grimm opened her eyes, having teleported to a small retirement home in Idaho. It was a simple, in and out reaping of a sweet elderly woman, along with some minor reuniting assistance to help her find her husband. It was the kind of peaceful work she enjoyed, and was easy enough.

Or so she thought.

Instead, the first thing her eyes met with were the Guardians, standing between her and the sleeping woman. They smiled sheepishly, doing their best to avoid eye contact.

Well, except for North. He was boisterous as ever, being the first to speak up.

“Hello, Grimm! Long time, no see! Listen, it is long story, but we need you at workshop as soon as possible. Actually, now.”

He reached out to grab her hand, but she dodged, seeming almost to slide across the floor with unnatural grace.

“Sorry to make you come all this way, but I’m very busy. I don’t have time to play games, or have adventures, or… whatever it is you all do.”

She tried to step around them to get to the elderly woman, but they blocked her path.

Now, it was the Easter Bunny’s turn to speak.

“Yeah, Yeah, we know you’re _real_ busy darlin’, but we need you. According to The Man in the Moon, anyway.”

She sighed, her eyes flickering back and forth between the gaggle of Guardians and the woman she was here for.

“I hate to be rude, but can you please move? You’re in my way.”

_Why wouldn’t they stop smiling?_

“Come on, you can’t take a break for just a minute?”

That annoying voice belonged to Jack Frost, she knew. But what annoyed her most was not his voice, but what he said. The same question that every immortal she had ever met asked.

“No, I can’t ‘take a break for just a minute.’” Her voice was suddenly snide.

“Allow me to put this in perspective for you, Jack.” She drawled condescendingly. “If you take a break for a day, kids miss a snow day. If Mr. Sandman over there misses a night of dream-weaving,” she pointed a bony finger at Sanderson, “Kids have a night of dreamless sleep. Also, not a big deal.”

She turned her head sharply towards the Tooth Fairy to her left, her expression growing cold. “If you decide to take a break, you have your little fairies to cover for you, don’t you?”

Tooth spluttered for a moment, eyes darting around the room. But before she could respond, Grimm’s head had already turned back to the rabbit directly in front of her. “And you, Bunny, you hardly have to do anything most of the year. During summer, fall and winter, you have few to no responsibilities. And when spring finally does come around, your job is watch eggs run around, and paint little patterns on them. They even hide themselves.”

“And how do I even begin with you, North?” Grimm was nearly expressionless, but her voice dripped with venom. “Not only do you have most of the year off as well, but you have a workshop full of yetis and elves doing all of your hard work.” Her jaw flexed and unflexed as she tried and failed to calm herself down. Her eyes were filled with a cold, silent rage.

She took another breath to continue when suddenly, loud beeping erupted from her wrist. She shook her head, screwing her eyes shut and exhaling heavily.

“Damn it, I don’t have time for this.”

With a strange whooshing sound, she disappeared from in front of them and appeared next to the woman’s bed.

Grimm thrust her hand forward, stopping it inches from the old woman’s chest. She took a deep, slow breath, before gently laying her hand above the woman’s heart. Her chest glowed blue for a moment, then Grimm's eyes focused on something invisible to the guardians. All the anger instantly drained from her posture, and she smiled softly.

“Hello, Mrs. Holloway.”

Each of the Guardians looked at each other. Jack looked a bit confused. North, for once, was shocked into silence. Toothiana looked like she didn't know what to think. Sanderson was following the direction of Grimm's eyes, seemingly fascinated. Aster was disgusted.

Grimm stood silent for a moment, then nodded.

“Yes. It’s time.”

She paused once more, listening, and responded.

“I can take you to your husband if you’d like.”

Grimm continued to listen, and her expression shifted to concern.

“Oh, it’s okay ma’am, don’t cry…”

Her arms wrapped around shoulders that weren’t there, her soft smile returning. Her hands made a gentle petting motion, and her hair and cloak shifted as if a slight weight were being pressed against her neck and shoulders.

North whispered to the others.

“I have never seen her in action before, but I did not imagine… this.”

All nodded in agreement. All but Aster, whose eyes were glued to the scene before him.

“I sort of pictured it as more menacing and forceful,” Toothiana said quietly, “with ominous shadows and skeletal, beckoning hand gestures.”

“Well, she’s got the skeletal part down at least.” Added Bunny, tearing his eyes away. “Look, even with those black gloves on, yeh’ can still see how bony ‘er hands are. And did yeh’ see ‘er face? ‘er eyes are so sunken you could use ‘em as cereal bowls.” His face took on a dark expression. “And besides. Even if she is gentler than we thought, she’s still killin’ people.”

They all went back to watching, with Aster’s words ringing in their ears.

Grimm was holding out her hand, still wearing a comforting smile.

“Come on. Let’s get you to your husband.”

There was a quick moment of pause, and Grimm laughed, presumably at something the woman had said. Then, with another glow, and another whoosh, she disappeared.

“Well,” North sighed, “off we go to find somebody else that is dying.”


	3. Wrath of Dianne

When it came to reaping jobs, by far Grimm’s least favorite was middle-aged moms. Depending upon their level of helicoptering, the task could range from being difficult, to downright hellish. She would rather reap teenagers over most moms, and that was saying something.

She sighed, reaching for a woman’s soul, buried within the pile of mangled flesh that once was her body. Even for being run over by a train, she looked shockingly disgusting.

The moment her fingers touched the soul, basic information about this woman filled her mind in a flash.

Her name was Dianne Smith, she had two sons, one thirteen years old, one sixteen. She had recently divorced her third husband. Well, this was going to be fun.

Grimm lifted Dianne’s soul from her body, bracing herself for the sea of anger she was about to be drowned in. The woman she saw before her was unrecognizable when compared to the body below her.

“W-what?” The moment Dianne’s eyes opened, they opened so wide, Grimm was afraid for a moment they would pop out. In many ways, this woman looked like a chihuahua being squeezed.

“Hello, Dianne.”

The woman crinkled her nose.

“And who are you supposed to be? Where am I? How do you know my name?”

_Already with the snark. Here we go._

“The simple answer, Ma’am, is to look down.”

She did, and somehow Dianne’s eyes opened wider.

“UGH!! WHAT IS THAT?”

“That is you, Ma’am. Simply put; you’ve died. I’m here to escort you to the appropriate afterlife.”

She backed away from the hooded figure of Grimm, shaking her head.

“NO. You’re insane. I’m calling the police!”

Grimm forced herself not to roll her eyes.

“Best of luck to you.”

Dianne began furiously digging in her pockets, before looking up at Grimm with an expression of pure rage.

“YOU STOLE MY PHONE, YOU CRAZY BITCH!”

_‘I’m the crazy bitch?’_ Grimm thought to herself.

Dianne began stomping towards her, in a move Grimm recognized as the, “I’m going to wave my hands in your face and scream at you until either I get what I want, or you do something that convinces me to escalate this into physical violence,” move.

Quickly, Grimm raised her hands and backed away.

“Whoa, whoa. I didn’t steal your phone, Ma’am.” Grimm pointed to a spot a few feet away in the gravel next to the tracks. “I saw it earlier, it’s right over there.”

The moment the words left Grimm’s lips, Dianne began angrily marching towards where she had pointed, occasionally turning back to throw her a dirty look.

She reached down to pick up the offending technology, but to her surprise, it slipped right through her fingers. She tried again, more slowly this time, and watched as her fingers phased through it. She tried again and again, growing steadily more frantic with each attempt. She then tried to pick up a rock, with similar results. After a few more tries she tried to kick the phone out of frustration, but her foot seemed only to slide over it. She whirled around.

“What did you DO!?” she shouted at Grimm, once again stomping towards her.

“I haven’t done anything.”

“STOP LYING! Whatever you did, you’re gonna fix it, and you’re gonna fix it NOW!”

“You want to go back? By all means.” Grimm stretched her hand out, motioning to the bloody, squashed corpse on the tracks. Dianne gagged.

“Hell no, I’m not touching that— that stuff!”

Grimm frowned. “Ma’am… ‘that stuff,’ is you. That is your body.”

Dianne looked at her own corpse like it was a stranger. She recognized the scraps of cloth mashed between the tracks as the dress she had been wearing that day. She bit her lip.

“I’m still not touching it.”

Grimm shrugged. “Okay.”

Dianne took a breath she didn’t need, and began pacing back and forth, calling out for help. Of course, no-one could hear her but Grimm, and an old tabby cat who was walking away, following the tracks to escape the din.

After a while, Dianne had run out of energy, and she slouched on a nearby bench.

“What do I do now?” She whined, not bothering to look at Grimm. She kicked at a pebble, watching the tip of her shoe glide through it effortlessly.

“Well, you have two options:” Grimm explained, “Come with me, and I’ll take you to whatever afterlife you believe in. You will exist forever in peace, tranquility, and contentedness.” Grimm cleared her throat. “Or, you can stay here, and try to deal with any unfinished business you have. But, you will be cursed to walk the earth forever until your soul eventually fades from existence, or until the unlikely event that you finish what you stayed for. Though, that rarely happens.”

Dianne shook her head, staring at the dusty ground. Suddenly, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed across the tracks. Two figures slowly rose over the top of a hill of gravel nearby.

“Didn’t Mom say she’d meet us over here?” The younger boy asked, walking quickly too keep up with his brother’s long legs.

The older brother sighed. “I think so… she said she wanted to eat lunch by the tracks after such a long ride? I don’t know, man… Why couldn’t we have just eaten at that deli by the station?”

Dianne gasped. “That’s right, we were going to have a picnic! Boys!”

She rushed to her rapidly approaching sons, holding out her arms for a hug. She phased right through them. Just like her phone, and the pebbles, and everything else. They continued past her, oblivious.

That is, until they found her body.

The younger brother screamed and wailed while the older brother fumbled for his phone. Unseen, Grimm and Dianne watched as the boys cried, screeching to the police over the line. Dianne did her best to get them to notice her, but nothing happened. She waved her arms, shouted, screamed, threatened to ground them “If they didn’t look at her RIGHT NOW!” all to no avail. Tears streamed from her eyes as she grew more and more desperate.

“Dianne…” Grimm reached out a hand to her. “They can’t hear you. And if they could, would that be better? Would it be better to burden them with the knowledge that their dead mother is still there with them, following them until she inevitably fades away? Or would it be better to let them be safe in the knowledge that she’s moved on to a better place, to live happily, forever?”

Dianne looked up at Grimm’s hand, her face shimmering with ghostly tears. She sniffed, looking down at her crying sons.

They would be forever scarred by this, she knew. But they would only be here, looking at her mangled body, for a short while before the police came and took them away. They would be haunted by this image, certainly, but they would move on in time. Life would go on, eventually. But if she stayed, they would forever live with her shadow over them. They could never move on, knowing that their mother gave up an afterlife to stay with them.

Grimm came in closer, placing a hand on Dianne’s shoulder. She shuddered, but made no protest.

“Okay.” Dianne’s jaw clenched, and she swallowed back the last of her sobs. “I’m ready.”

Grimm smiled softly. “Okay.”

Dianne bent down. Though she couldn’t touch them, she mimed kissing each of her sons on the head.

She took Grimm’s hand and nodded.

There was a loud _whoosh_ , and suddenly they were floating in a starry abyss. Around them were several glowing, unmarked, oval-shaped portals.

“Which god do you follow?” Grimm asked, looking Dianne in the eye.

“Umm…” Dianne looked nervous. “I am— was, an atheist.”

Grimm smiled. “Where do you want to go, then?”

“I, Uh…”

Grimm waited as Dianne deliberated.

“What did your family believe in?” Grimm asked.

“They were all catholic, but I don’t want to go wherever my family is. I’d rather di— never mind.”

Grimm looked her up and down. “You seem like the type who would like Cockaigne. Unlike other heavens, there’s no particular god associated, and any sort of… ‘partying,’ is definitely encouraged.” Grimm gave her a sly smile.

Dianne smiled back. “I thought that sort of thing was a sin?”

Grim thought for a moment. “Only before marriage. And you’ve crossed that barrier more than once.”

Dianne chuckled ironically. Then, she paused. “Will I be able to see my sons there? You know, when they…” She gave Grimm a meaningful look.

“Sure. I’ll tell them which heaven you’re in. And even if they decide to go to a different one, all heavens have a sort of… phone-like connection to each other. You won’t be able to visit them, but you’ll be able to talk to them whenever you like.”

Dianne smiled, sniffling and wiping away her tears.

“Sounds good to me.”


End file.
